The 30 Day Song Challenge
by Evedina
Summary: 30 days, 30 songs, 30 fics... Rating is for possible later "chapters"
1. Day 1: Show Must Go On

A/N: There's this thing called a 30 Day Song Challenge and since everyone's done it one way or another I decided to do it as well, but on my own special way. Everyday (almost atleast) I'm going to get a song for the challenge and then write a short fic inspired by it.

So here we go. Day 1: Your favourite song - The Show Must Go On by Queen

* * *

He could feel the sun on his face as he cracked his eyes open a little to realize that it was yet another new day. Not that that had old any meaning to him for several days now. It felt like it had been three weeks since he had crashed his mentally exhausted body to this couch that wasn't really all that comfortable, but that somehow appeared to be his anchor in this storm. The couch was staying put so he was staying put, instead of drowning under the tsunami that were his emotions. In reality he had actually gotten up to get something to eat every now and then and he remembered having a shower couple of days ago.

Three weeks. The most painful three weeks of his life. Three weeks since he had last seen her. Three weeks since he had last heard her voice. Three weeks since he had seen her crying while he had listened to her telling him that she had been cheating on him. He remembered everything about her; the clothes, the runny mascara, the disheveled hair, what she had said, how she had sounded, the way she had moved closer to him as if to hold on to him. He remembered everything about _her_. But for the life of him he couldn't remember anything about himself. Had he said anything? How did he get out of there?

He barely remembered how he had gotten here. A friend of his was in the real estate business and she had gotten him this place in a day's notice as well as the couch. He knew that, but he didn't really remember it. Maybe it hurt too much to remember. The same way it hurt too much to sit up right or move or _breath_. It had hurt every second of every minute of every hour of the past three weeks and he suspected that it would continue hurting a great while longer. But somehow today felt different.

Somehow the sun didn't feel quite as cruel as it had the day before and all the days before that. Somehow the idea of getting up and maybe getting a shower didn't feel as overwhelming. He found himself sitting up and opening his eyes. The sight was somewhat dreadful, another change to the day before when all he had seen was emptiness. True, the apartment was mostly empty, but filling all that vacancy were takeout cartons, empty whiskey and beer bottles and a couple of bags with his clothes in them. He didn't remember getting those either.

So he got up, got himself one of the plastic bags the food had obviously come in, and started little by little cleaning the trash. After that he went to the bathroom and took the longest hot shower ever, while noticing that he wasn't as cold as he had been before. As he got out of the shower and into some sweatpants and a T-shirt he found himself in front of a mirror. Will McAvoy. Somehow he had expected to see someone else. But the picture still looked like him, a broken, beaten, harder and more tired version of him, but nevertheless, it was Will McAvoy looking back at him.

Will took a long look at the place he had been rotting in for several weeks now. It wasn't all that bad. Actually, it was a stunning place for anyone whose eyes weren't currently blind to all the beauty in the world. He could live here. To his horror, and relief, Will noticed that he had suddenly made a decision. He was starting to create a plan which meant that he was starting to function again. Very well then.

Step one: Call Sheryl and tell her you want to buy the place for good, never mind that the building wasn't all done yet.

Step two: Decorate. Scratch that. Hire someone, a man, to do it. No woman's touch anywhere.

Step three: Find a job that doesn't come with her.

Step four: Forget everything about Mackenzie McHale, wipe her out completely and **never** get hurt again.


	2. Day 2: I like big butts

A/N: Day 2: Your least favourite song - I like big butts by Sir Mix-A-Lot

This isn't really my least favourite but it's close enough to the Finnish song that I can't stand. And here is the story that got inspired by the story that actually got inspired by the Finnish song which I am saving for later :)

This isn't really a next chapter to the previous one, but you can read it as such if you like.

* * *

It was half an hour before the show and Will was in his office changing clothes. He already had his dark blue suit on, one of the suits that Mackenzie had apparently handpicked for him after coming back. He tried not to think too much that the woman that used to buy his personal clothes with him was now responsible for his work attire.

He stood in front of his mirror putting on his tie when he stopped to take a good long look at himself. Old. That was all that he saw when he studied his features. Well, not all. Bitter, miserable, unsexy… Mackenzie would never want him like this. Whoa! He tried to shake the thought from his head and went back to doing his tie. There was no need to have thoughts like that.

But yet the tie was undone. Will started pulling at his hairline, the bags under his eyes and his forehead that surprisingly wrinkled when he pulled it down. This is how Mackenzie, of course, found him when she came into his office to give him some notes.

"Will, I was…" she stopped to look at the blond man across the room who had startled and moved quickly away from the mirror. Though not quickly enough. "What are you doing?"

"Hm? What?" Will did his best to will the slight blush on his face down and was once again extremely fascinated by his tie.

"Just now. What were you doing?" She asked again, crossing her arms to her chest as she tried to stare him down.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You were checking yourself from the mirror" she said and moved closer.

"That's usually what one does with the mirror" Will said and was starting to get annoyed with the tie. For God's sake, how hard was it to do something he had done every freaking day for the past two decades.

"No. You were examining yourself. Looking for wrinkles."

"Please Mac, I'm not a girl. I don't examine my complexion from the mirror."

"Cept that you just did" Mac said and came close enough to push Will's hands away and start fixing the tie for him.

"So what if I did. I work in television, if I look bad the viewers can always change the channel" he tried to excuse himself.

"Trust me Will, no one is changing channel for the way you look" she said and smiled a little without making eye contact with him. "If anything they're tuning in."

Mackenzie examined her handiwork and then smoothed the "wrinkles" of his shirt by sliding her hands across his chest and then back to the tie again. She still remembered the feeling of that chest under her head. Though it was probably ten times as good as she remembered it.

"You still look good Billy. You can make people's knees week with just a look" she said and finally made eye contact. God, those blue eyes of his. The eyes that once showed love and adoration for her in them.

"I'm getting old" he said quietly, not able to move away from her.

"You make old look sexy" she said and for a moment he was sure that she was going to kiss him. But she didn't. And he didn't either.

She cleared her throat and moved away to take her papers that she had left to his desk when she had started to work on his tie.

"There's a problem with the graphics for the EU story so you might have to work with just the numbers" she said and went for the door.

"Okay" he said and nodded.

Mackenzie was almost out of the door when she turned to look at him once more. He caught her look from the mirror he had turned to look at once more.

"You really do look good."

"Thanks. It's the suit."

She smiled and left. He turned and walked to his desk where he stopped to think what she had said. And though it didn't matter, because why would it, the thought of her thinking he looked good, sexy even, made him smile.


End file.
